


once there was a fleeting wisp of glory

by darth_stitch



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harry Hart Lives, Harry Hart as Arthur, Harry Hart is basically Fitzwilliam Darcy as a gentleman spy, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 10:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: Daisy Unwin watches and listens and knows that her big brothers aren't ordinary tailors...





	once there was a fleeting wisp of glory

Daisy Genevieve Unwin absolutely loves books.

Ever since she was quite little, her big brother Eggsy would read to her before she went to bed and Mummy would take over when Eggsy couldn’t. And then, much later, it would be Harry who would do the reading. Harry was her other big brother, although there was a time, when Daisy was just a baby learning how to talk, that she’d actually called them “Da” and “Pa” – much to Mummy’s amusement. Mummy had to explain that Eggsy was “your big brother and his Harry’s your brother now too, since they’re married” when she was old enough to understand. Daisy still thought that she was the luckiest girl in the world, since she had two big brothers to love.

The best part about Eggsy and Harry doing the reading was that they would do all these different voices for the characters and sometimes, if they read to her together, they’d take on a different character each and they would all laugh and joke and it was ever so much fun. Their voices would follow Daisy even in her dreams and she’d sleep ever so well.

Of course, Daisy knew how to read all on her own now, only stumbling on a word here and there. It was all right, because she could understand it, the way the story flowed. Or if it was really too hard, there was always someone to ask. Her favorite person to ask, of course, was Harry, even if Eggsy teased him about “having swallowed a dictionary, that’s our Harry right there, aye?”

“Cheeky brat,” Harry would huff, but his eyes would twinkle in that way that told Daisy he was really laughing on the inside. Also he had that happy look that he got every time Eggsy would say “our Harry” which was really silly, because he’d always been “our Harry.”

Eggsy leaned over to Daisy and stage-whispered, “What that means, petal, is ‘I love you’, just like ol’ Westley and Buttercup.”

They were reading _The Princess Bride_ to her that night.

“Does that make you Buttercup then, Eggy?” Daisy asked in all innocence.

“Oi!”

“As you wish,” Harry laughed at that time and stole a kiss from Eggsy as cleverly as the Dread Pirate Roberts did.

At six years old, Daisy had already outgrown the simple storybooks that the little kids and babies had and was already reading the ones meant for the big kids. She loved Matilda, knowing exactly how it felt to go to a library and to come back with her little wagon full of books, then curling up in Harry’s comfortable cushy chair with her first pick from the pile. She’d read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, spending quite some time wandering in dear Mr. Tolkien’s Middle-earth. She did try to read Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, although she ended up having Eggsy and Harry read this to her instead. It was quite better that way.

(It was agreed by the Unwin siblings that Harry would have to read the parts with Mr. Darcy in them.)

Any of the adults in her life were happy to go with Daisy to a library or a bookstore, even if Eggsy and Mummy had to stop Harry from trying to cart off all the books from the shelves, as long as Daisy wanted to read them.

“Our Daisy’s a clever little ‘un, aren’t you, petal?” Eggsy would beam at her, even as he also had a hand in trying to get her every book ever written. Or at least, that was how Mummy put it, laughing at all of them but not minding it one bit.

But there was one book in particular that was Daisy’s favorite of them all. It was a birthday present from Aunt Roxy and Uncle Merlin, beautifully illustrated and bound up in hardcover, just like many of Harry’s own books.

Aunt Roxy was the one who told Daisy, “Get your Harry to read that to you.”

Harry smiled, although the tips of his ears were quite red, for some reason, but he was happy to oblige  
(As you wish, poppet) Daisy anyway.

The book was The Once and Future King.

Daisy’s favorite part was when King Arthur was simply young Wart, off having adventures with Merlin, which was all part of getting a “sound education.” And she listened, all rapt, when she found out that there was a musical based on the book and giggled at Eggsy’s attempts to sing Camelot.

It wasn’t that Eggsy couldn’t sing, because he had a lovely voice and he was rather good at it. It was that Eggsy also did his very best impression of Harry, which made Harry pretend that he was all huffy and grumpy (Cheeky brat!). That made it even funnier.

“Well, who’s your favorite knight then?” Aunt Roxy had asked her once.

“Galahad,” Daisy answered promptly and was surprised when Harry blushed, Eggsy preened and Uncle Merlin rolled his eyes and went: “God help us.”

“You don’t like Lancelot?” Aunt Roxy asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I like him, but I love Galahad best. He’s my favorite!” Daisy insisted.

“I think someone’s been stacking the odds in his favor. I call unfair bias!” Aunt Roxy said dryly.

“Ye’ve corrupted the wee lassie,” Uncle Merlin chimed in.

“Oi! Can I help it if my sister’s got very good judgment?” Eggsy protested, but putting on his funny posh voice which never failed to make Daisy giggle.

And then, Daisy was utterly delighted to discover that there were more books about King Arthur and his Knights, other than her birthday present.

“Well, poppet, many people love the stories of King Arthur and his knights and that’s why there are so many other books about them,” Harry had explained, even as he showed her his own book, different from hers, but with just as many beautiful pictures of knights and dragons and castles. He read this to her as well and let her read it on her own. Daisy promised him that she would take very good care of it.

Sometimes, Harry could tell his own stories about King Arthur’s knights and he didn’t need to read them from a book. Daisy loved the stories about Sir Galahad and his faithful squire, a poor boy who had impressed the knight with his courage and kind heart. Eventually, the squire became a knight himself and Sir Galahad was very proud of him. The two of them had a great many adventures together, but they always came back to Camelot, “just in time for tea and before poor old Merlin would lose his hair entirely, worrying about them” – as Harry put it, looking rather mischievous.

Eggsy had his own stories about King Arthur himself and Sir Galahad. There was one night, when Eggsy finally told the story that became Daisy’s favorite of all time, even though it did make her cry a little bit. Although it was Daisy’s bedtime, Eggsy was all dressed in one of his best suits, looking, as Mummy put it, like a “fine handsome gentleman.” His glasses were tucked in the front pocket of his jacket, which, oddly enough, was something he only really wore at work.

Eggsy told her that he’d be going to work that night and leaving for a few days, but he had time to tell “my lil’ petal a story, of course, how could I forget?” Harry had already left much earlier, having already said his goodbyes. He’d promised a new book to make up for missing storytime.

So the story that Eggsy told that night was one of how brave King Arthur went up all by himself against an evil sorcerer. But the sorcerer cast a terrible spell on him and poor Sir Galahad was forced to watch his King die, from a magic mirror in Camelot. Or at least, that was what Sir Galahad had thought at the time. Despite his grief, he, Merlin and Sir Lancelot went up against the evil wizard to stop his wicked plans. They’d gone on quite the quest, slaying monsters and evil knights and a terrifying Witch Queen who wielded swords forged in dragon’s breath. But eventually, they found out that their King was alive after all. It took a while for Sir Galahad to bring his King home, but bring him home he did, for he loved his King very much and would never give up on him.

“And then, they went on more adventures together, living happily ever after, even if they caused poor Merlin to finally lose all his hair. The end!”

Eggsy said that in his very best posh voice, looking quite solemn and serious, right up to the moment the two siblings looked at each other in the eye and then dissolved into helpless giggles. Mummy poked her head into Daisy’s room and said: “Don’t you go getting your sister all worked up, Eggsy-boy. She needs to sleep!”

“Yes, Mum,” the siblings chorused. Daisy stifled her laughter into her favorite stuffed toy penguin.

Eggsy finally kissed her forehead and made sure to tuck her in, blue-green eyes warm and loving. “G’nite, Daisy-girl. Be good for Mum and I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“ ‘Kay,” Daisy yawned. “Love you, Eggy.”

And then: Galahad, time to go. Arthur’s waiting.

The voice, which sounded very much like Uncle Merlin’s, came from Eggsy’s glasses. It was rather faint, but Daisy had very sharp hearing and she looked up at her brother in surprise.

Eggsy laid a finger on his lips and winked.

Daisy Genevieve Unwin is six years old but she’s not stupid.

Her Mummy said that Eggsy and Harry were tailors. Daisy has been in the Kingsman’s shop on Savile Row a few times, because Eggsy and Harry would often get her new dresses, especially if it was her birthday and Christmas. She’d stand on a little stool, trying to stay very still, as Harry took her measurements and Eggsy would get help from Mr. Andrew to see what color fabric would suit her best.

“She’s growing so fast,” Harry would always say, “Goodness, poppet, I can see you growing by inches right this minute.”

Harry could be very very silly at times.

But she knew he and Eggsy would always make her a beautiful dress, “fit for a Princess.” There were times when she’d catch Harry doing some bit of embroidery for her skirts, a pretty flower or a butterfly. He’d sit in the sunshine with JB at his feet and Daisy often found herself sitting next to him, drawing or playing with her dolls.

So, they were tailors, but there was something…else. Something more.

Daisy knew how to be quiet and to listen and to “observe,” as Eggsy put it, “like a regular Sherlock Holmes.” And once she knew what to look for, sometimes she would hear Uncle Merlin or Aunt Roxy call Eggsy: Galahad.

Her big brother’s real name was Gary.

But they would call him that like it had always been his name and those would be the moments that her brother wouldn’t be the happy, smiling man that told jokes and cussed at times (even if Mummy would scold him for it) and lovingly call Daisy “Petal.” He’d be quiet and serious and he’d carry his brolly like it wasn’t just any old brolly, but like it was something else

(a sword)

and the way he would move and walk and carry himself somehow reminded Daisy of the way Mr. Tolkien described the Dunedain, the Rangers of the North. The watchful guardians against the Great Enemy, who wandered all over the North of Middle-earth, protecting the people there, including the Hobbits of the Shire, from orcs and Ringwraiths.

There weren’t any orcs and Ringwraiths in the real world of course, but even Daisy knew that there were still very, very bad people out there.

She remembers a time when she was quite little, maybe four years old, and she had wanted Eggsy to take her to the park, even if he was supposed to be working at the time. Mummy would have been cross but Eggsy did come and get her, saying laughingly that: “Your Uncle Merlin wanted me out o’his non-existent hair for an hour or so.” So the two of them went off together, Daisy in her favorite purple hoodie, pink tutu and purple leggings, her “fairy princess outfit,” as she called it then. Eggsy was in his fine gentleman’s clothes and his glasses. When they’d come back from the park, she had insisted on walking, instead of being carried by her big brother.

And then: “Oi, Muggsy!”

She remembers ducking behind Eggsy’s legs and remembering the feel of his hand on her head, protectively sheltering her from the tall man with the beak for a nose and bad teeth. Eggsy had his brolly with him and he suddenly shifted his grip on it, like he was about to draw a sword from its sheath.

He’d simply looked at the man and then, pointedly glanced at his brolly and then back at the man again. “You were saying?”

The tall man blanched and then Eggsy held the brolly up, pointing it at him

(my good blade carves the casques of men)

and the man started babbling apologies and finally ran away.

That time, Daisy let Eggsy lift her up even as he murmured, “All right, there, petal?”

(my strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure)

She smiled and nodded and kissed his cheek. She never saw that man again. And she did get the “stranger danger” talk after that.

Sometimes Eggsy would come home from one of his trips and he’d walk funny, like he was hurt, or there would be bandages somewhere on his body, cuts that were nearly healed or fading bruises. Harry would hover and worry and Mummy would press her lips tightly and fuss and even then, Daisy knew that the best medicine for her brother would be to hug him very lightly and let him rest. Although Eggsy would insist that Daisy sit next to him on the bed so that it would be her turn to tell him stories.

“In the very end, good King Arthur was taken away by the Ladies to far-away Avalon. People say that he isn’t really dead, that he isn’t really gone, that he’s only sleeping. But one day, when he’s needed again, he’ll wake up and come back. That’s why he’s called the Once and Future King,” Daisy knew perfectly well that Eggsy already knew this ending, but he liked it when she explained it all over again.

The first time she had heard it, she was in the shop, getting fitted for her Christmas dress and one of the tailors came up to Harry and said: Arthur, sir, it’s…

And Harry stood up, placed a gentle hand on Daisy’s shoulder and faced that man. His voice was quiet and even when he said, “Not here.”

The man turned quite pale and mumbled apologies.

Daisy could never really remember Harry truly being cross, at least enough to be scary or to shout at anyone. Even when she’d been naughty, the most was that she’d see him sad and disappointed and that was enough for Daisy to start crying and tell him that she was sorry and she’d never do it again. That was what Mummy and Eggsy had taught her. That, and to “make things right.”

Arthur.

Daisy was watching Harry and he looked very much like Eggsy when he was called “Galahad.” All grave, stern and serious, but his voice was gentle when he’d asked Daisy if she could stay with Mr. Andrew for a few minutes. “I won’t be long, poppet.”

Again, Daisy was very much reminded of Mr. Tolkien and Bilbo’s poem about Aragorn. The old that is strong does not wither. Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

The crownless again shall be king.

She nodded but much later Harry had come back, kissed her on the forehead to say goodbye, apologizing that he had to cut their time short and that he would make it up to her. It was Mr. Andrew who took her home in the Kingsman taxi cab.

Just as he promised, Harry did make up for everything, even though he really didn’t need to, by telling her two Galahad stories at bedtime.

So Daisy simply continued to watch, quiet as a mouse, and listened.

Sometimes, Aunt Roxy was Lancelot.

Sometimes, Daisy would hear Uncle Merlin yell at Eggsy and Harry and most of the time, he wouldn’t be calling them by their proper names. “Galahad,” “Arthur,” “y’daft sods flirting onnae mission when you’re already married, get a room for God’s sake” and “cheeky buggers are going t’be the death of me, this is the END, the absolute END, no wonder I got no hair left!” were often part of his rants.

Poor Uncle Merlin.

Sometimes, there were other names she recognized, because of course she knows King Arthur’s got other knights – Percival and Tristan, Bors and Pellinore, Gareth and Gawaine. Sometimes, she met some of the other tailors that Eggsy and Uncle Harry would work with and she could work out who they were, especially when they would slip up and not realize it.

Aunt Roxy’s beloved “Uncle Percy.” Eggsy had proclaimed him “My favorite knight, no, Harry, y’don’t count anymore, you jealous bastard. You’re my King, remember?”

“Tristan,” who was really Mr. John and had a nice snuffly dog. Someone once saw Mr. John in the store and went all scared when he calmly picked up a pencil and just looked at the man. That man never came back.

“Bors,” who was really named Mr. Thorne and snuck Daisy cookies baked by his partner, Bill. Also from Uncle Merlin: Eggsy, if you and Bors could kindly refrain from blowing everything t’hell the first time things go to shite, I’d appreciate it. My blood pressure will appreciate it.

Daisy just listened and observed and laughed quietly to herself at her big brother Eggsy and Harry and their circle of tailors

(knights)

talk and joke and offer tiny snippets of what must be their adventures. She kept it secret, because it was clear these were meant to be secrets and just like Eggsy, she wouldn’t grass anyone up, no sir.

Daisy Genevieve Unwin is seven years old when she first has her own Proper Adventure.

Mummy used to go with her on school field trips but this was the very first one where she’d been allowed to go just with her and her classmates and her teacher. Mummy sat her down and reminded her of “Stranger Danger” and to always stay with her designated partner and to listen to their teacher, Miss Matilda. Daisy had her own phone, with the numbers of all the adults she knew well and Eggsy promised her that “You just call, petal, and Mummy, Harry or I will come get you, no matter what, all right?”

Miss Matilda was taking the class to the museum, to see the new King Arthur exhibition. Of course, there wasn’t a real Excalibur or the Holy Grail. But there were paintings, medieval weapons, suits of armor, even props and costumes used in movies and plays. There was music and interactive displays and storytelling. It promised to be great fun and all of the class had been eagerly looking forward to it.

Daisy rather liked Miss Matilda, because she made her classes interesting and she wasn’t cross or grumpy like some of the other teachers at school at times. Miss Matilda listened to them and even the naughtiest students in her class learned to mind her.

The trip would take up their entire school day and the best part was that it was Harry’s turn to pick Daisy up from school. She loved this because Harry always made time for them to have afternoon tea together at this lovely place near the tailor shop. So Harry proposed that he would come get her at the museum and arranged it all with Miss Matilda.

The exhibition was everything Daisy and her schoolmates had thought it would be and more. They’d wandered to and fro all over the displays under Miss Matilda’s watchful eye. They admired the weapons and of course, Daisy’s schoolmates were all arguing about being knights and princes and princesses and the girls in the class were quite adamant that it was perfectly possible to be a princess and a knight until one boy proposed that he’d rather be a dragon, just like Toothless from one of Daisy’s favorite films. Some of them sighed over the pretty dresses and the other costumes and there was one section where the children could try on costumes and play dress up.

Daisy’s attention was caught by the paintings of the beloved characters of King Arthur’s court. Arthur and his Knights Reimagined was the gallery’s title and so she paused to admire a painting of a lady knight as Percival, riding her trusty motorcycle into battle. There was a young Merlin in the midst of several monitors, with a tablet floating above his hand. There was a Sir Lancelot portrayed as James Bond, all suited up in Tom Ford and his Walther PPK. There was a Sir Galahad who wore his snapback at a rakish angle and winged trainers on his feet, very much like Eggsy, when he wasn’t working. He still had his sword and his shield and stood proudly triumphant, having just brought down a three-headed dragon. One foot rested lightly on one of the dragon’s heads.  
And there was one of King Arthur himself, as a dapper, well-dressed older gentleman. The bespoke suit he wore could have very well been made from the Kingsman store. He was in the midst of a bar brawl that had just ended, bruised and bloodied men groaning and lying sprawled on the dirty, alcohol-stained floor. Arthur looked perfectly immaculate, not a hair out of place and his brolly was stuck in this great stone, much like the famous Sword in the Stone. His hand rested on the brolly’s handle, ready to pull it out.

Actually, he rather resembled Harry.

Daisy looked from the portrait of Sir Galahad to the one of King Arthur and started giggling madly. She’d been so caught up with the portraits that she didn’t notice her companions and teacher had gone further away.

She didn’t notice the man coming up behind her, not until the stink of him registered in her nostrils and the pain as he roughly grabbed her arm.

“Yer comin’ wi’ me, girlie.”

He smelled horrible, like vomit and something else that Daisy couldn’t identify. The little girl screamed and tried to twist free. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth were yellowed as he bared them in a nasty smile.

“Oi! Is that any way to greet your dear ol’ dad? I’m yer daddy, girlie and I’ve come to take you home.”

Daddy? Daisy didn’t know this man and the way he looked at her made her skin crawl, made her feel sick. She’d only ever known her Mummy and the only men in her life that came close to being like dads to her were Eggsy and Harry. She’d never thought to ask about her father and when Eggsy spoke about “Dad,” the image that came to mind was the slightly faded picture of a man in military uniform and beret. That picture was kept in a place of honor on the fireplace mantel in their living room. Lee Unwin, the man that Mummy said died a very long time ago. The man that Harry had once called a true hero.

“Unhand that child this instant!” Miss Matilda cried, having rushed over the moment she’d heard Daisy cry out. She very carefully kept her other pupils behind her, shielding them from the strange man. People were already starting to look around at the scene playing out before them.

And then the man pulled out a gun. Daisy’s schoolmates screamed. Miss Matilda, eyes wide with horror, spread out her arms to try and gather all the other children away.

“This is me girl, she is. They took her away from me – she’s mine, she’s my blood, my property and I’m takin’ her!”

“You’re not my Dad, I don’t know you, let me go!” Daisy screamed. She was so scared, but she was so angry at the same time. This man wasn’t going to take her away from her Mummy, Eggsy and Harry. All of them were so brave and Daisy could be brave too. Just like Arthur and Galahad and all of the other knights. She stomped on his foot hard, just the way Aunt Roxy had shown her, trying to get free.

It almost worked.

“None o’ your cheek, girl!” The man snarled, lifting the hand that held the gun towards her. Daisy instinctively braced herself for the blow that was coming.

Except his hand was caught by someone else. A familiar tall figure in bespoke calmly took away the man’s gun, dismantled it into pieces and before Daisy knew it, the man staggered back with blood streaming from his nose. It happened so fast that he’d lost his grip on her the moment he’d been hit.

Daisy fell down, only to be caught up by familiar arms.

Eggsy.

Eggsy was crooning comfort in her ear, holding her close. He tried to shield her eyes but Daisy shook her head no, because she wanted to see.

The man wasn’t giving up and he roared, rushing at Harry, spittle flying in flecks from his mouth, meaty fists swinging. Harry’s expression was cold and stern and he quickly dodged the man’s blows. He didn’t waste his time, dislocating that man’s shoulder and breaking his jaw in quick succession. He had him down on the floor in seconds, choking the man with his brolly.

The museum’s security guards weren’t far behind, cuffing and securing the man, taking him away.

The people in the museum broke out in applause. There was a smothered, “That was siiiiick” from one of Daisy’s schoolmates – Ron – she thought and Miss Matilda shushed him.

Daisy didn’t pay that any attention though, because Eggsy was already swearing, “I’m going to kill that fucking bastard – “

The coldness was still there in Harry’s eyes, a look that Daisy had never seen before. “Dean Baker will never trouble our family again, I swear it.” He took a controlled breath and just like that, he was their Harry again, warm and loving. He stroked Daisy’s hair. “Are you all right, darling? You were so very brave, I’m so proud of you.”

She nodded. “I want to go home.”

“As you wish, poppet.”

Mummy had hugged her ever so tightly when they finally came home.

It was Mummy who had later explained who Dean Baker was and Daisy finally understood about biological fathers but that Dean had never been any kind of “Dad” to her at all, not for one moment. That Eggsy had taken her and Mummy away from him when she was so little that she never properly remembered him, only vague impressions of that nasty, vomit smell and loud shouting that made her cry when she was a baby. It had been Eggsy and Harry who both promised her that she would never see that man again, that he would never, ever take her away from them, not ever.

Daisy knew they would keep their promises – they were Galahad and Arthur after all.

 

Daisy Genevieve Unwin is seven years old and today she was going to read her homework essay. It was a pretty simple topic for schoolchildren her age, When I Grow Up, I Want To Be… Her schoolmates had all picked obvious ones: princess, astronaut, policeman, fireman, doctor, chef and teacher, among others. Miss Matilda decided to make a little presentation of this and all of Daisy’s schoolmates had shown up with their costumes. At least two little future chefs even had food to give to the class. Proud parents were also present and of course, Daisy’s Mummy, Eggsy and Harry were there to cheer for her.

Daisy didn’t have a costume on, because she was going to surprise Eggsy and Harry with this. So all she had was her neat and expertly tailored school uniform. She walked up to the stage with her head held high.

And then, just before she started to read, she put her glasses on.

She saw Eggsy and Harry both draw in a sharp breath.

“You’ve got this, Daisy-love,” Aunt Roxy’s voice came through her glasses, making her smile. “Go get ‘em.”

Daisy began: “When I grow up, I want to be a tailor, just like my Eggsy and Harry.”

Of course, she tipped Eggsy her own mischievous wink.

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> Notes/Bonus Headcanons:
> 
> Yeah, Tristan a.k.a. “Mr. John with the snuffly dog” is exactly who you guys think he is. He decided to settle down in the U.K. and take up tailoring. Ahem. :P
> 
> Bors a.k.a. “Mr. Thorne” may or may not bear a certain resemblance to an ancient Dwarf King Under the Mountain. His partner Bill currently does not have furry feet in this lifetime, but that’s because he’s human this time around. Bill’s cousin happens to be one Dr. John Watson.
> 
> Harry really was the inspiration for the King Arthur painting in the gallery by sheer coincidence and serendipity. There’s a story behind that. I’ll get around to writing it one of these days, because I really love Third Party POV.
> 
> Fine. You guys know this is the Blanket Fort right? So maybe, just maybe, an ancient High King has been reborn. He just needs to wake up. Ahem. *evil giggling*


End file.
